The Story of the Lord of the Dance
by Blacktwinschan
Summary: Join the Lord of the dance's past and his slightly different journey from boy to be a grown man and a legend he only had heard of. fifth chapter up!
1. Authors Note

_Lord of the Dance Fanfic_

**The story of the Lord of the Dance- Authors Note**

_After seeing the "Feet of Flames" show in Hyde Park on Youtube, I became so facinated that I started looking for fanfictions on the internet. Thankfully I found some, but after reading all of them I still wasn't satisfied. I felt that I wanted to write one of my own- so here I am :)_

_I became facinated by the nameless Lord of the Dance character and his background. We know nothing about his real name or how he became the Lord of the Dance. How did he and Cara(the spirit) come to have such a friendship? How did he met Saoirse and the Gypsy Morrighan? When did the Lord met Don Dorcha and how did they came to be eachothers nemesis? and so on.._

_In this story, I will tell the Lords past(and maybe some parts that's taken from the Hyde Park show), and how he became the nameless Lord of the Dance._

_A warning: i'm not so very good in english, so there may be some gramatic and spelling mistakes, but I hope you don't mind!_


	2. A Flute In The Woods

_Lord of the Dance Fanfic_

**The story of the Lord of the Dance**

_Chapter 1. **A flute in the woods**_

There was a time when the man's belief in magic was almost ridiculous. Women accused of having practiced witchcraft were burned at the stake. Outcasts, such as Gypsies, homosexuals and street performers, were persecuted and killed. The threats had deterred many street performers from continuing their performances, but still there were those who didn't let themselves be discouraged. Young Aidan was among those brave. The little boy was a brilliant entertainer with his jester tricks. But the more brilliant was his dancing. He had an elegance that amazed the king himself (he, however, never let this to be acknowledging by public), a speed that could make a bunny jealous and a skill that surpassed the adult dancers in his troupe.

"He has feet of flames," his mother often said proudly to those who asked."I know, someday he'll be something great. I can feel it in my bones"

The poor woman didn't know how right she was. It was a beautiful day , and young Aidan got stock in a game that took place between two salmon in the stream near his troupe's camp and didn't returned home until sunset. When he came back, the poor boy found his home destroyed. The large camp fire was extinguished and around it laid the bodies of men, women and children. In the tent where he lived was the tent cloth dyed red with blood. It was easy to see where his parents had been standing when the fatal blow had fallen. Their bodies lay beneath the wall: his father had been beheaded; his mother had been hit straight in the chest. In horror young Aidan ran away without looking back even once, terrified that someone would follow.

Long time had passed before he finally stopped in the middle of the woods. He was tired, but was too terrified to venture to fall asleep. The grief that had been hampered by fear came up with him, and he gave into tears. The scene of his dead parents were constantly before his eyes, whether they were closed or not. Who could be so cruel that he killed so many people, especially his parents who never did anyone any harm while they were alive? WHY? For what reason he had been fascinated by fish and been spared to share the same fate? The young boy had never allowed himself to cry, not since he was five, but now he was crying. Even when the tears seemed to have run out, he wept. The sorrow of his lost had no end. The troop had been his world and his parents a safe haven from the other boys who had loved to tease him. All that was left of them were empty shells, bathing in their owner's blood.

Suddenly he felt something hard and elongated in the pocket of his trousers, and from it he pulled out a small flute. It was painted white and sparkled in the faint moonlight, like it was made of diamonds rather than wood. Four words, or perhaps an entire sentence, were inscribed on the side of the tube. He couldn't decipher the words, and even if he had canned, it was clear to that it wasn't Celtic. Then something strange happened. The inscribed words began, right before his eyes, to change. The word EARTH suddenly appeared. Aidan blinked for a few seconds, not believing what he just had been seen, and then looked again. The word WIND was now formed, closely followed by FIRE and then finally the word WATER.

A sudden movement behind him caught his eye, but no longer he felt fear. If the gods had chosen him to survive, run away like a coward would be to reject them, and the cost of his hurting pride would be too bitter to swallow. With an imperceptible movement , the little instrument slipped back into his pocket, and after a quick silent prayer, he turned around- ready to fight, or be killed, whatever it may be.

Instead, he stood face to face with a small, golden creature.

"Why do you cry, young man?"Asked the little creature while she or he, looked at him with a look of astonishment. Aidan weren't prepared for that, in amazement he took a step backwards, but tripped over his own feet and fell headlong to the ground.


	3. Aidan Meets Cara: The Little Spirit

_Lord of the Dance Fanfic_

**The story of the Lord of the Dance**

_**Aidan meet Cara, the little spirit.**_

The little creature continued to watch in wonder at the little man on the ground before him. Aidan continued to stare at him, or her, with his heart pounding hard in mixed horror and excitement. He had never before seen such a beautiful creature. So small, almost luminous. Its face was both childish, youthful and mature- at the same time! His mother had often told him tales of mythological creatures that were believed to live in streams and forests the world over. The creature before him, recalled such a creature he had been told. But what had his mother called them? He didn't remember.

Instead of answering, he asked, stammering:

"Who are you?" The reaction was not as he had expected. The creature laughed, spun around on the spot and said with a childish smile:

"Cara!" Cara? Never had he heard about any creature that was called so. Neck, the naked violinist whose music drew people into the creek, he had heard stories about. But what was a Cara? A name or a name of a creature? Whatever it was, Aidan thought that it sounded like a female name than the name of a race. So probably the creature was a female.

Cara leaned down towards him so that her gray eyes met his.

"It is polite to introduce yourself as well." she said." Who are you, young man?"

"Human!" Aidan said quickly. Once again, she laughed.

"What's so funny?"Aidan asked, a bit annoyed that all the time being laughed at. Cara giggled.

"That you're man I already knew, I wanted to know what your name is!"

"Aidan."Perhaps he imagined, but when she had heard his name, he seemed to suddenly see a change in the creatures face. Was it excitement, or perhaps reverence? Whatever it was, the creature seemed to be more joyous than before. Soon he would know the reason.

"I should have seen it before!" She said with an excited voice. "You're the young boy who performs at the capital's streets, right? The boy with feet of flames, I can see why they have given you that name." While the Spirit (Aidan's only guess at what breed she probably could be) spoke, she walked in circles around him, without removing her gaze from him. Although he couldn't meet her eyes in the darkness, he felt her gaze and a terrible discomfort vein trough his body. Suddenly he saw them. Eight dark figures came through the trees. The faint moonlight revealed unfortunately not their faces, for they were dressed in dark hoods which only allowed the moonlight to light up their noses and the lower part of their faces. They were a terrible sight to behold. He wanted to scream but no sound came from his throat.

Besides, who would hear him?


	4. Lord Of The Dance

_Lord of the Dance Fanfic_

**The story of the Lord of the Dance**

**_The story of the Celts_**

One of them stepped forward, probably the leader of this fearsome creatures, for on his chest was a strangely designed label, like those worn by the ancient Celtic druids. He came closer. How much he wanted, Aidan couldn't move an inch. His legs were, like his entire body, paralyzed by fear and without legs, no dancing. Without dancing, he was defenseless.

But to his surprise, the Priest didn't attack. Instead he began to speak:

"For centuries ago, in this country, in the New Christians began a search for everyone and everything that was considered to be against the Christian God. Gypsies, beggars, Medics: all of which considered sinful was arrested and killed. Worst hit was the Celts. New Christians feared those most of all, for they possessed the magic of the ancient Druids, witchcraft called by the Christian Irish.

The Celts were at that time, a united nation under two leaders, "The Lord and the Lady of the dance". The female stood for the light, the male for darkness. Together they created a balance of magic, for as long as the magic was in balance, the Celts were strong.

But a group of Celts were tired of the oppression of Christians. They were tired of hiding from them and their people's refusal to fight them. With the leadership of the one dancer in class with the Lord, they broke away and created a nation of their own. With dark forces in their possession and the hatred they possessed against the Christian culture, the Dark Celts quickly became feared by the Irish. Priests, monks and nuns were slaughtered mercilessly, and after them the general population. As the Christian once mercilessly had chased the Celts, Dark Celts chased them with the same blood thirst.

For the Christian joy the Lord of the Dance was a man of honor, although he, under the Christian culture was a heathen. He fought alone against the Dark Lord, and he was defeated, but at a great cost. The Lord of the Dance died from injuries he suffered from battle. The magic was now unbalanced and the Celtic people were vulnerable for an attack. But the Archdeacon, whose life was one of those the Lord had saved, was also a man of honor. Unlike from many of his predecessors, he wasn't blinded by Christianity. Despite his high position in the church, he didn't obey the Pope's orders. When they asked him why he said:" My eyes have been opened, and I pray to god that they must never be closed!"

The priests, both Celtic and Christian, concluded with the king, a peace agreement. The agreement has been existing for centuries since then, but dark times have now begun. The good old king is dying and his son, the crown prince, is convinced of the purity of Christianity. His actions against marginalized groups, as they call heretics, have already begun. Many innocent women and men have already been imprisoned. Gypsy and Celtic camps have already been stormed. It happened to your troup, young Aidan, and more it will be."

"W-Why do you tell this for me?" Aidan asked. The priest replied, without taking his eyes off the boy:

"Because you, young Aidan, is the next Lord of the Dance."


	5. Memory

_Lord of the Dance Fanfic_

**The story of the Lord of the Dance**

_**Memory**_

"_Father…?" Aros, Aidan's father, grunted to show that he listened. The five year old Aidan hesitated, but then continued, "Why must we learn to dance while we almost just do crafts?" The man froze in his carving, then sighed, and laid aside what he had in his hands on the ground before him._

"_Have they teased with you again?" he asked then. Usually, another parent first would have asked if their child had any problem in class, but Aidan never had trouble learning the steps, on the contrary, he was very good. But the other boys often teased him because the teacher often praised him. "Fawning" and "eye-servant were common nicknames they used. The boy shook his head while he looked into the soil, which revealed that he lied. Aros noticed that, and he grabbed his son's shoulders._

"_Haven't you learned not to lie?" he asked strictly, but his face softened when Aidan ashamed met his gaze._

"_It is true that our people are craftsmen and the dance has no use to us anymore. But the dance's significance, Aidan, still remain important. You see, a long time ago lived a man, a Celt, whose dance saved an entire population from a most cruel fate. This population had for years previously had a hunt for Celts, but he sacrificed himself to save them. Our dancing is a tribute to his memory. "_

_Aidan's ashamed expression had changed into fascination and admiration as his father told the story. So that was all the dancing about; to honor the memory of a hero._

"_What a brave man he must have been." Aidan said dreamily."What if I became such a man when I grow up? Then they would stop teasing and instead pay tribute to me." Aros, which had gone back to carving, laughed softly. The boy sat down in the grass and laid his head in his hands._

"_What was his name?"_

"_Nobody knew it except his wife. But he was called The Lord."_

Why he remembered that incident now? He shouldn't even have any memory of it, for when that happened he only had been six years old. Thing just seemed to get worse and worse, although he doubted that it could be worse. His parent's were killed along with the people he had lived with all his twelve year life, he was lost far out in the woods where he threatened to become an easy prey to all types of hazards plus he was surrounded by scary faces who said he was someone who had been lost decades earlier. Everything seemed like a bad horror nightmare, and he wanted nothing more than to wake up from it and find himself in the troop's camp with his parents still alive.

But that was only a wish of the heart. Reality was different

"The flute in your pocket proves what you are." said the priest.

"Flute?" asked the boy. His hand found its way into his pocket and he took out the beautiful, shimmering flute. The four words were still imprinted on the bottom.

"The signs you see are hieratical writing, a writing language only understood by the priests of ancient Egypt. According to our folklore, there is a being that possesses such, a little golden spirit that is only seen by the Goddess earthly servants: Celtic druids, the Dark Lord and the Lord." Golden Spirit? Was it…? Could it be…? He looked at the small object in his hand for a moment, read the engraved words over and over again. He lifted his head for to ask, but only to notice that the priests had vanished.

First now Aidan noticed the rain. He was soaking wet, so it had rained for a while, maybe it began when he came home and found them all dead. In his grief, he mustn't have noticed it. He did not notice what was happening, when he tried to take a step forward, he sank to the ground.

* * *

_5th Chapter up. Sorry it took such a long time, I've been having a writers block but hopefully it's over ^^. In the next chapter Aidan meets...Yes, who will he meet?;) Wait and see_

_(For you who doesn't know, this is the behind the scenes story(or whatever I can call it) of The Lords travel from his past to be his future self and how he come to have such realtionships with the other characters.)_

_Please write what you think of the story so far :)_


	6. The Gypsies I

_Lord of the Dance Fanfic_

**The story of the Lord of the Dance**

_**The Gypsies part I**_

The rain pattered serenely against the thick wooden walls and along with the trolley smooths motion, it was soporific. But the beautiful Esmeralda could not sleep. She glanced over at her little sister, who slept in a corner with her blanket tightly entwined around her body. She looked peaceful. Esmeralda envied her. But what could you ask from a child if not peaceful dreams, before the adult world upon them? She loved Morrighan high and her greatest desire was to protect her from the world's evil, but knew it could never be possible. As their parents had gone before them, Esmeralda would also pass away day and who would protect and take care of Morrighan when that day came if not herself? Therefore, she pushed the girl hard and mercilessly during their training sessions. Every dance step would be ideal, posture would be impeccable and the charisma mysterious and appealing. Morrighan was doing well at every training session, but just doing well wasn't enough. No dance was ever perfect, no single motion was fully developed and, above all, no dancer was ever irreplaceable. Jacek said she was too hard on the girl. Perhaps she was, but it was for her own good. She herself learned it the hard way the day their parents died, she didn't wished her precious sister same fate.

But it was not concern about her sister who made her sleepless, but the horrible rumors she had heard. Jacek's voice suddenly rang out and the cart stopped with a jerk.

"Stop the cars!" Esmeralda heard him jump down from the driver's seat. Slowly she rose from the floor, crept to the door and opened it carefully. With a last glance at her sleeping sister, she slipped out into the dim light of dawn.

Jacek and the other drivers stood some distance from the wagons. They talked excitedly to each other while they gazed toward the woods. Esmeralda joined them. Usually, in this era, it wasn't acceptable for a woman to "interfere in the affairs of men", but they accepted her as an equal, much thanks to the fact that Jacek had a crush on her.

Apparently one of the men had seen something move among the trees and been taken by such surprise that he would have driven into the car in front of him if his draft animals hadn't stopped in time. This poor fellow was now yelled at by Jacek whom, due to lack of sleep, wasn't at his best mood.

'How stupid can you be? Are you blind, man? "Jacek went on.

"But I swear I saw something."The man tried to defend himself. "It was small and luminous, shone as brightly as the sunlight, and played on a flute. I swear on my life that I heard a flute playing!" To this, Jacek snorted.

"Your pitiful life is hardly worth more than what fits in a fingernail and hardly credible." He turned to the rest of the men and said mockingly: "Anyone else seen, or heard for that matter, this so-called _essence_?" Many of them agreed something Jacek hadn't counted on.

"I heard a flute too." said an elderly man. "Bright, appealing tunes. Very beautiful played, I must say."

A young man said: "It is said there is such a being in the Celtic faith, a little spirit serving Mother Nature. It is said to play on a…"

"Nonsense!" Jacek hissed. "That is unproven, unfounded, fabricated stories made by adults to scare young children. And on _you_ it certainly has succeeded!" He gave on last angry glance at them all (except Esmeralda) and walked back towards his wagon. The poor young man looked guilty at the ground, embarrassed at having failed to please Jacek, whom he so fervently admired.

Esmeralda would just say a few comforting words to him when beautiful tunes suddenly rang through the air. Everyone froze, including Jacek who was about to climb back up on the driver's seat of his wagon.

"There it is again!" a man shrieked. The other men murmured and in the corner of her eyes she saw the draw back in horror. But she hardly noticed them, no; her eyes were fixated on the small but beautiful creature that appeared before them. It was almost luminous, the face was at the same time childish, youthful and mature and the eyes revealed decades of war and peace, pain and joy, sorrow and laughter, love and hate, life and death.

The creature bowed before her.

"Fair maiden, please fear not, I'm not here to harm you." It spoke with such a lovely voice and the beautiful gypsy dared to trust it, for she saw in its eyes an honesty she had never seen anywhere else. On the contrary it looked vulnerable, as if it was close to tears.

"My name is Cara. This forest tonight has tonight been an atrocity so terrible that even the gods find it hard to forgive what has happened." In front of her eyes, she saw it:_ a surprise attack on what looked like a camp, men, women and children brutally murdered and a child, a boy, who found them and then men in dark robes._

"I understand." She said. The creature, Cara, nodded and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

Jacek was the first to reach her, even though he was at the far distance.

"Esmeralda? "he asked anxiously. When she didn't respond, he gently took her face in her hands and stroked her cheeks. Her eyes were blank and expressionless; she didn't even seem know he was there. Instead, she began to walk, past him and those who now had reached her, into the trees.

"What happened?" one of the men said, mostly into thin air. "That thing just disappeared and Esmeralda seems to be ... well ... crazy!" The minute later, the same man lay on the ground with a likely broken nose.

* * *

_6th chapter up. It took longer than i thought...I know I told you that in the next chapter, Aidan would meet someone...well, basically, he is about to meet someone but I wanted everyone to meet the Gypsies and (ta da!) Morrighans past first. In this chapter we meet Esmeralda ,who is Morrighans older sister, whose beauty and talent probably ourages Morrighan's own since she's only 11-12 now and Esmeralda is eighteen. As you might already know, Esmeralda is a very caring person who can seem very hard, even cruel in her training of Morrighan. It's already obvious that Jacek, the troups leader, is very fond of her and that the men respect her. I refuse to believe that it's only because she's Jacek's love-interest. Oh, and in the end of the chapter, Esmeralda is more or less hypnotized- but I guess you've already found that out^^_

_I'm not very good in english, so there might be some gramatic and spelling mistakes, but I hope that doesn't ruin the story ^^_

_(For you who doesn't know, this is the behind the scenes story(or whatever I can call it) of The Lords travel from his past to be his future self and how he come to have such realtionships with the other characters.)_

_Please write what you think of the story so far :)~_

_~Blacktwinschan_


End file.
